


Poem.

by dyobaek



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:27:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyobaek/pseuds/dyobaek
Summary: What they have is something KyungSoo never been able to explain.





	Poem.

He wakes up first. He’s never been the type to sleep in, not as a child, and when he began attending board meetings - he’s trained himself to sleep on flights and in cars, so that he’s always ready.

He looks over to his right, and he is still there, fast asleep. Byun Baekhyun's hair spills out over the pillow like melted copper and the dim light in his hotel room makes he look like a doll.

Or a dream, soft and blurred around the edges.

Last night - no, this morning, when it was pitch black outside and they had stumbled out of Rouge - and he was usually so in control - _where had his control gone_ \- he hands on his wrists - hailing the taxi cab and pulling him inside after he, laughing, he hair tickling his nose as he leant in.

The eighteen year old boy he remembered - longed for, worshipped (in his own way) is gone - and in he place is a boy with eyes full of mischief and a laugh that bite has learned how to navigate the world.

"Where do you want to go?" The driver asks.

Byun Baekhyun’s gaze meets his and he swallows. He leans forward and tells the driver the address to his hotel.

Everything is in perfect order as he expects it - the bed made, the room temperature at a comfortable setting, the shades drawn - the coffee maker and tea kettle properly aligned on his living room table.

There is even a fruit basket from housekeeping. He makes a mental note to thank his secretary for remembering his arrival time.

Baekhyun’s hand leaves his - and when did they start holding hands - and walks to the table. The latter selects an orange and looks at him thoughtfully.

"Catch," he says, and throws it toward him.

Somewhere between him watching he peel a second orange, he fingers digging into the dimpled rind and peeling away the white webbing, and then licking off the juice as it dripped down he palm -he’s loosened his tie and he’s toed off he shoes.

"Yah, Byun Baekhyun," he says, his voice a rasp in the stillness.

The older looks up at him, he tongue still pressed against he wrist.

He swallows. “Come here,” and holds out his hand.

Kyung Soo never been good with words - okay, this is a lie, he’s always known what to say, what quip to defuse or detonate a conversation, his wit an armor and trap all in one -

but he always made him trip up, his tongue useless as everything he said became a weapon when he meant to soothe - to cajole -

and even now, he’s fighting him with he mouth, he tongue a scorching reminder of what he thought he could never have —

Baekhyun choosing _him_ , he fingers threaded through his hair, and he lifts he up so the angle was better and he hears - his name gasped from between he lips

 _KyungSoo, KyungSoo_.

The backs of his knees meet his bed and he falls, holding onto he.

Baekhyun wakes up when he feels his gaze - memorizing he, and he blinks sleepily up at him. There’s a crease on he cheek from the pillow and he rubs at it absent mindedly before he yawns, he arms coming up from underneath the sheets.

He sits up and he nakedness reminds him that what happened was real, and he tentative smile confirms that it wasn’t a mistake.

"Hello," he says softly.

"Good morning," Kyung Soo replies.

He stares at him and Kyung Soo stares at he, and it should be awkward - hideously so, because his mind reminds him, they haven’t spoken in seven years and then he meets the olders in a club and the years fall away and it doesn’t matter, sense memory takes over.

The scent of he hair.

He fingers curled over his, as he breathed Baekhyun name over and over again, his palm curved over the dip in he back - the taste of he skin intoxicating against his tongue.

Lust is simple chemistry.

What they have is something he’s never been able to explain.

The thermostat hasn’t turned on morning settings yet and he can see he’s getting chilly. He gets up, and walks over to the bathroom, the plush carpeting sinking underneath his feet. He wraps himself up in a robe and gets a second one for Baekhyun.

"Here," he offers, and drapes it around he's. "The sun’s coming up."

He pulls back the curtains and rays of sunshine filter into the room, casting an orange glow on everything. It touches Baekhyun and he hair catches the light, turning he hair into a fiery halo.

He turns to him and smiles. “I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it.”

"What?"

Baekhyun folds he hands in he lap and says, “ ** _So, although I wanted to come closer…_** ”

another memory needles at him - of the last year in English class, and the teacher - the pretty one, the one that told him to put his eyebrows down, reciting a poem.

 **** _I long to have one moment close to you_   
  
_but you would leave me forever._  
  
 _So I kept the distance between us,_   
  
_as I wanted to be at a place where I will always be able to see you.*_

He finishes speaking, and Baekhyun nods.

"I didn’t wait," he says. "But I hoped."

Kyung Soo finds it hard to speak.

"I think I understand that."

He smile is a poem unto itself.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for read it until the end.


End file.
